


Life Goes On

by PoisnousPixie



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, F/M, Female Alpha, Omega Verse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-22
Updated: 2014-05-22
Packaged: 2018-01-26 04:05:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,330
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1674071
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PoisnousPixie/pseuds/PoisnousPixie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They didn't quite fit, visually.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Life Goes On

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing.
> 
> Warnings: Omegaverse AU, MPreg, Alpha!Female, Fluff, Unbeta'd, de-anon from the kinkmeme

People stare.

Lili doesn't strike most people as an Alpha when they first meet her. She is small, and polite, even a little bit shy, and her behavior really fits so much better with the stereo-type of everything an omega is meant to be. So, when the wind blows, or something happens and they get a whiff of that Alpha musk, or she somehow manages to draw the eye and attention of any omega and Alpha in the room, it's a shocking thing.

Likewise, her mate is similar.

Gilbert isn't particularly tall, but he is taller than a lot of omegas. He is loud and brash, and  _enjoys_  the attention he gets for it. Confrontational by nature, he likes to fight, likes to push himself into the center of any and all action, and loves to take command. Most Alphas didn't like Gilbert for this reason. Neither did a lot of the other omegas- once they realized he was an omega as well. His behavior made him somehow unsavory to them.

They couldn't see him as a good mother, and that coupled with his physical appearance, made Gilbert somewhat shoved aside as an omega. But it hadn't caused Lili to do so.

She knows how to appreciate those very things. His appearance is striking, and when he chooses to wear them, his glasses are adorable- he isn't something to be feared like some think, something to shun, and his behavior never clashes with her own. It meshes nicely, sweetly. They easily even each other out. He helps her be braver, and she soothes his frayed edges like no one else could.

At first, no one ever really questions it when they walk down the crowded street together, hand in hand, and everyone who does know about them, friends, and family, accept it without much fuss.

Some people stifle the surprise, the shock, when they realize it. Some are unsurprised for more then a moment.

And some continue to stare.

They look deeper, see that that small hand holding Gilbert by the crook of his elbow when he gets loud and anxious, isn't an omega clinging to their alpha, or a younger sibling urging the elder to be calm, but that of an Alpha carefully, and gently easing their omega into a sense of peace. The arm around Lili's waist isn't an Alpha being protective, but Gilbert holding tight to his own protection, to the Alpha that helps him, and loves him and makes him feel safe.

The surprise becomes more blatant when Gilbert's belly begins to swell, a tiny life forming inside him, and his scent turns sweet. As his scent grows sweeter, stronger, and his stomach larger, movements slower and more awkward, Lili's own scent changes. Letting others know that these two are a pair. That this petite slip of a woman is an Alpha who wouldn't stand for her mate to be threatened or harmed. There was meaning that couldn't be missed in the dainty hand she pressed at the small of his back, and the way she stood by his side. A possessiveness that wouldn't have been noticed at any other time.

More people stared.

They watched, and whispered, speaking quietly, as if they couldn't be heard or felt.

There were nights when Gilbert would lay on the bed, or the couch, his head on Lili's lap, body curled around her, the swell of his belly against her back, as he pushed back tears. Let all of his anxieties melt away, all the anger and pain from how people looked at them, spoke to them, letting her gentle hands slide through his hair, and brush along his neck and shoulders. The soft hum of her voice wiping it all away and giving him the strength to go on another day.

Other nights, she pins his hips down, hovers over him with darkened eyes and a sweet smile, spreads his legs with her knees and whispers sweet nothings as she presses those same fingers into him, pressing against hot, slick walls. Watched as he squirmed, and threw his head back, listening to him moan her name. There was nothing more beautiful to her, her mate, so head strong and stubborn reduced for just a short while into someone so vulnerable and needy, who trusted her so explicitly, to let her see it, not once but every night she asked for it. To hear her name come from his lips, breathy and pleading, his pale fingers grasping for her, his body warm and pliant beneath her own.

Sometimes she let him ease into orgasm like this, her fingers pressing and reaching, her other hand stroking lightly against his erection, lips pressing soft kisses over the swell of his stomach as he twisted and writhed. Most nights, she pulled her glistening fingers free, and pressed into him. These nights, she savored it, the feel of him tight around her, the little hitch in his breath, the way his eyes sought hers instantly, the warmth and love that swelled in them both, the round of his stomach the only thing that could keep them from pressing close, and even that something to be cherished.

These nights all ended with her curled to his back, their skin slick with sweat, and her hands resting against his belly, the firm roundness protected by such tiny hands. She hummed, and he whispered soft words of a lullaby he couldn't remember the melody of, they murmured sweet 'I love yous', in between talk of names and what it would be like to hold the babe when it was born.

And when he is, a little baby boy, pink and rosy with corn-yellow hair and winter blue eyes, they name him Ludwig Frederich Vogel. He sleeps between them on the bed, and people don't stare so much anymore. They can pretend again that Lili and Gilbert are less odd, less not-quite-right visually.

They move, eventually, to a less crowded area. To a place where people don't stare quite so much, don't ask so many questions, don't pry so much.

The house that they live in, a small little house just inside town with a small yard and fence, is comfortable and happy. Gilbert writes for his magazine articles and sends them via e-mail, works from home where he can take care of a infant learning to crawl and talk, and Lili teaches at the high school where everyone knows her as "Ms. Vogel" and no one wonders about the smell of omega that clings to her, or the picture of her mate and child that she carries in her wallet.

When Gilbert isn't so sore from giving birth, and Ludwig is still small enough to sleep most of the day, they christen the new house. She presses him against the floor, or the wall, or the counter in the kitchen, the slim fingers that were so soft and gentle when he felt vulnerable are now demanding and stern, they draw groans and gasps, leave bruises on his thighs, hips, sometimes his wrists. He wears them all with pride, encourages the roughness, the bites and pushing, pleads and begs for it when he needs it most. She never fails, never falls short.

Their life is normal here.

The older Ludwig grows, the less Gilbert is bothered by the stares, the less time Lili spends worrying about them. Ludwig never notices when people check a second time when he calls his father "papa" or his mother "Mama", and no one dares draw as much attention as they once did with a child right there.

By the time Gilbert's stomach begins to grow with their second child, they're both stronger and braver. Not so many nights are spent in tears, and more are spent with their firstborn curled between them.

People are still shocked, and surprised.

They still stare.

But it's okay now, not so jarring or upsetting.

Lili smiles, and Gilbert leans against her, and life goes on.


End file.
